


Small secrets

by chiriil



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Macro/Micro, Other, Self Insert, Shrinking, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-05 23:56:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21217172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiriil/pseuds/chiriil
Summary: I’ve written 18 other fics with this exact plot but god hasn’t stopped me yetBlatant self insert au set in a co-species society (don’t ask how that works), has macro/micro and possibly more nsfw themes if I ever continue it- tags and warnings will be updated accordingly





	Small secrets

You don't think much about going about your day as usual, sticking more to the human side of town out of habit. When you're on your way back a sudden wave of nausea hits, so you pause to lean against a nearby building until you recover - only to be met with a dull pain starting in your skull, quickly spreading to the rest of your body and forcing you to lean heavily on the worn brick wall. Your vision goes white with a sudden increase in pain, forcing you to double over as everything starts to sway and fade in and out of focus. Your last thought is that of dread before you pass out on the sidewalk. 

When you come to an indeterminate amount of time later your whole body aches as you push yourself up to sitting, still resting on the cold concrete. Your head is foggy but without a doubt the ground beneath you shakes, and then again- each rumbling impact getting louder by the second. Something startlingly massive slams down next to you, eliciting an undignified yelp as you're thrown back slightly. As your eyes follow the monolithic pillar upwards you realize what it is- a worn shoe, on the biggest person you've ever seen standing mere inches away. Or rather, a troll- the hands holding a phone taller than you are a warm grey, fingers tipped with claws. He glances over upon hearing your startled reaction, immediately freezing in his tracks. 

After a long, stunned moment of you staring at each other, he crouches down, one of his hands resting right next to you, before hesitantly reaching out to touch your arm to confirm you're real. As he does so the feeling of his warm fingertip on your cold skin makes you realize that while you'd shrunk, your clothes hadn't- you'd been left only partially covered by your now tremendously oversized sweatshirt. 

He reaches out for you, ignoring your protests that quickly turn into a flinch as his fingers wrap around your body and lift you out of your sweatshirt, staring at you in awe. He's drawn out of his stupor as someone passing by almost runs into him, prompting him to clutch you closer to his chest as he gathers up your clothes and stands up, hiding you from view by keeping his cupped hand pressed into his sweatshirt. You're left in the warm darkness pressed between his palm and chest, your proximity letting you hear his rapid heartbeat. 

As he walks the dread that'd settled in only grows, unable to stop your mind from wandering to all the extremes he could go to- not made much better by the reminder that the person currently holding your entire being in one hand is also holding your clothes in the other. Trolls aren't exactly known for their outstanding kindness- you hadn't even gotten a good look at his face, but you've no doubt his mouth is full of sawblade teeth, his eyes piercing and distinctly inhuman. At the sound of a door slamming shut you're suddenly blinded as his hand tilts away from his chest, leaving you in full view. He sets your clothes down on the floor beside his desk before taking a seat, resting his cupped hands in front of him, looking you over curiously. Now you have a better chance to see what he looks like- as does he with you. His bright red eyes are focused solely on you, his slit pupils dilated wide like a cat watching its target. His mouth hangs open in awe, revealing his pointed teeth and scarlet tongue past his grey lips, and his cheeks are flushed ever so slightly beneath a splattering of freckles. Your legs are pressed tightly together and your knees tucked up to your chest, one hand covering your chest and the other beside you on his warm palm to keep your balance despite his idle shifting. 

“...what _ are _ you?” He asks in hushed awe, his thumb brushing over your hair. 

“A-a human,” somehow you manage to find your voice even as you sit trembling in his hands. “I-i don't know w-what happened-”

“You're so _ small_,” he pries your hand away from your chest, examining your comparatively miniscule fingers, your mind immediately jumping back to the thought of him accidentally snapping your arm. “How is this even possible?”

He doesn't seem to be asking you for a real answer as he continues to inspect your limbs, tracing over your body from head to toe. The only thing you can think about is whether or not this is reversible- if it isn't, you could be stuck with him forever. Or however long you live after this. If you're lucky he'd still treat you as an equal- though from your experience, trolls aren't prone to doing so even with normal sized humans. You're brought back out of your thoughts as his thumb brushes over your chest, forcing your hand out of the way. He chuckles as you try to push him away, internally marveling at your miniscule hands pressing against one grey digit. You're pressed into his palm with one finger, completely overpowered. 

“You're so cute,” he says, your face going red at the statement- and you notice him flushing a bit, too. “I wonder if this is permanent…”

He reaches past you with one hand to wake up his computer, his claws clacking on the keyboard as he types. _ Is he planning on keeping you if it is? _ A moment later he hums, glancing back down at you. 

“Good news, there's an antidote. Bad news… It's expensive.” Just as soon as you'd gotten hopeful again. He bites his lip, still looking down at you. “I mean, you'll be fine like this, right?”

You're too busy processing what he'd said to notice the way he's looking at you now. He's obviously a lowblood, it's no wonder he can't afford an antidote for a mysterious virus that only affects 0.00000003% of the population. A highblood would run a higher chance of killing you, be it on accident or on purpose, but if they could afford it you could at least try to appeal to them- you don't have a choice here. By the time you snap out of your thoughts he'd turned his attention back to the computer screen. 

“There is something _ like _ an antidote, that'll stop you from shrinking further,” he glances back down at you. “It's cheaper.”

When you look up at him you accidentally meet his eyes, and you're too afraid to look away. He looks back at his computer screen, clicking a few times before turning his attention to you again. He hums, staring at you for a long moment before moving. 

“Wait here.” With his free hand he pulls open his desk drawer, clears a small space in the clutter, and drops you in. You're left in complete darkness as he closes the drawer, hearing his footsteps depart and the front door slam shut. 

You can't see a thing, and are frankly a little scared to move around too much, there's no telling what kinds of stuff he keeps in here. Figures this'd happen to you- you didn't think trolls were all that bad despite the obvious stigma against them, but here you are being held captive by one anyway. 

It feels like hours without a way to tell the time but eventually he returns, setting something on the desk above you before opening the drawer again and taking you back out. He sets you down next to a small glass vial almost as tall as you are, half full of a semi-opaque, blue liquid. He screws off the dropper top, holding it in one hand and pinning you down with the other. 

Before you can object he pinches your jaw, forcing you to open your mouth as he lets a drop fall inside. Instantly you choke on the thick liquid, it leaving a very strong, medicine-y aftertaste. He repeats this until you guess you'd gotten the proper dose, plenty having gotten on both you and the desk from your coughing and struggles. You won't know whether or not it worked until it's too late, but if it does, you'll be stuck at roughly two inches tall. 

You glance back up at him warily, but his gaze is fixed on the computer screen. From your position you can't make out anything on the screen, other than there being some images and various lines of text that he scrolls past. You jump involuntarily as he turns his attention back to you. 

“I ordered some clothes that should fit, but let's find something until then.” Without warning he grabs you as he stands, setting you down on top of his dresser. He pulls the first drawer open, knocking you off your feet, and starts rummaging through. After a minute he pulls out an old shirt and closes the drawer, grabbing you again and setting you back on his desk. He retrieves a pair of odd looking scissors from the drawer, and starts to cut out a long rectangle starting at the bottom hem. 

He folds the piece of fabric in half, cutting a rough semi circle out from the folded edge. He sets it down beside you and picks up the shirt again, this time cutting part of the sewn hem off. Once he's done he sets down the scissors and picks you up again, holding your arms down to prevent you from struggling as he slips the first piece of fabric over your head, leaving you with a poncho-like garment. He sets you down on your feet, taking the length of hem he'd cut and looping it around your waist, tying it in the back with a bow. 

As soon as his hands retreat you tug the fabric to more fully cover your hips where the tie had bunched it up, only realizing a moment later that he'd been watching you curiously. You're grateful for the clothes, but would be much more so if he had just gotten the antidote and had you repay him later. But, you're also ever so slightly afraid of what he'll do to you if you're anything less than cordial, or just in general, given the circumstances. 

“T-thank you.” You manage, not meeting his eyes. He almost coos, and leans down to be almost eye level with you, his hand snaking around to your back. You jump as his warm skin touches your shoulder, effectively blocking you in. 

“You're welcome. I guess I won't need to teach you how to be polite.” He says with a slight smile. You're close enough to him now that his breath is hot on your skin, and you catch a better glimpse at his sharp teeth. It's almost hard to look him in the eye, but they're such a piercing scarlet you can't bring yourself to look away. “Though there are some other things you could learn.”


End file.
